


Darling, Just Hold My Hand

by Pansexualweirdo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Is Soft, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), thick thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 03:09:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20987837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pansexualweirdo/pseuds/Pansexualweirdo
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are now on their own side. But... what did that mean for them, exactly?Title from Ed Sheeran's "Perfect". Not a songfic, though.Happy reading!





	Darling, Just Hold My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second upload on this site, I hope you enjoy reading it! I appreciate your support. :)

Two unearthly creatures occupied a bench in the St James Park. A demon and an angel. They sat here to discuss their blessings and temptings as they have for many decades now, in order for heaven and hell to believe they were still thwarting each other. The only difference now was that the Armageddon’t had passed, and the pair were no longer working for their superiors of light and dark. This left a bit of an awkward tension in the air, whereas they both have always had something to talk about, with the arrangement. But Crowley was determined to find new conversation topics for them, without the help of alcohol consumption. After all, they were on their _own_ side now.

The demon carefully glanced over to his companion, who sat prim and proper in tartan clothes, hands clasped over his lap. A content smile clad his face.

”So…”

He successfully gained the angel’s attention. Bright, blue eyes fixated on him, and Crowley realized that he would have to _continue_ speaking now. He cleared his throat, hoping that it would somehow help him.

”Bit different, this..”

A decent start, but not great. All the same, Aziraphale shot him a small smile, a quiver of lips that made Crowley’s knees weak. He shifted slightly in his seat, idle hands picking on a loose thread hanging off his jacket.

”Oh. Yes, I suppose it is different. It’s not bad, though,” came the response, and things went quiet again.

For Hell's- Heaven's... For _Someone's_ sake, talking to the angel hadn’t been difficult the first 6000 years, why should it be now?

Past the celestial and the devil walked a couple just then, hand in hand. They were deep in their own conversation, oblivious to everything around them as they talked and laughed, and they beamed at each other in an oddly familiar way. Crowley wondered where he had seen it before. Ear to ear smiles, crinkled eyes…

”I have to say, my Dear, that I’m quite grateful you convinced me to stay with you.”

That made the demon’s face light up like a Christmas tree, made him sputter uselessly.

”S’nothing.”

”Well, it’s not exactly _nothing_. I’m sure you understand _why_ I have been so stubborn, since Heaven was keeping a close eye on me. I couldn’t just do whatever I wanted.”

”Nah, I know. And s’fine Angel, we don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Crowley assured Aziraphale, growing weary under the eye of the celestial, whose expression was new and unreadable.

He then broke into a wide grin, a grin that reached his eyes and crinkled in the corners, and in a sudden moment of realization, all the air was knocked out of Crowley’s lungs. Not that he needed it in the first place.

That couple he had watched. The love they had radiated… the _familiarity_ of it began to make itself clear for the demon as he shifted his weight on the bench.

”Yes. Yes, you’re right. So now that I can do anything I want…”

”Anything,” exhaled the demon, impatient yet terrified of what was to happen next.

_You really should be careful what you wish for,_ Crowley thought when Aziraphale’s smile faltered. His gaze fell half-lidded, a shuddering breath leaving parted lips, and the sight one Crowley was certain were the prettiest he had ever seen. Although, before he could try calculating what plans the angel had, his hand was taken by the celestial’s, caged in a gentle yet insistent grip.

_Oh_.

All shades of red rose to Crowley’s cheeks, and he choked out a helpless noise.

”I can do _this_.”

Aziraphale held serpentine eyes through the glass of his shades, the contact burning like Hellfire. And as if Crowley wasn’t already positively melting beneath the holiest of touches, Azirphale then laced their fingers together, and they fit together perfectly, like two matching puzzle pieces. Crowley stared at their hands, took notice of how the angel’s were trembling.

”There is- ah, a table free at the Ritz if you’d like to join me.”

_Oh, so _now_ he has the audacity to sound shy?_ Look what Aziraphale has done to Crowley, a mess of unshed tears and more love than a demon should hold for _anyone_. Much less an angel. Something in Crowley’s stunned silence, however, seemed to be taken as a stop sign, and Aziraphale dropped Crowley’s hand all too quickly, a pained smile splitting across his face.

”I suppose I must have misread your intentions. I’m terribly sorry, Dear…”

He stood up hastily, about to walk away, and finally, Crowley’s stupid limbs cooperated with him. He grabbed the angel’s hand, pausing to take in the look of sheer surprise on his face, before yanking him down to seal their lips together.

A gasp left Aziraphale's lips, but Crowley left no room for questions, tugging the angel down until he almost fell over Crowley's lap. Sweet Satan, to have those soft lips pressed against his, it was almost too good to be true. And it only got better, because Aziraphale lifted a leg over Crowley’s lap to sit across it, the weight and heat of his body enough to emit a growl from Crowley’s lips.

Snaking his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, Crowley marveled at how deliciously soft the angel was. Firm yet squishy, his belly pressed against Crowley’s a sensation the demon was sure he would never get enough of. His thick, plush thighs wrapped around Crowley’s, his lips soft as they moved against his. The intensity of their kiss, the amount of passion and love that bled into their touches as Aziraphale’s hands buried in red hair and Crowley’s hands squeezed his sides, the fact that millennia of yearning were all pent up into this - it let loose a whimper from the back of Crowley’s throat and welled his eyes with tears.

When they finally parted, panting and dazed - Aziraphale’s face a perfect canvas, dusted in bright red and eyes unfocused, glazed over -, Crowley could see they had attracted quite the crowd, curious teens and offended elders gawking on at them, and discreetly, he snapped his fingers, sending them all elsewhere. Not necessarily any place bad, just.. elsewhere.

He drew a deep breath.

”The Ritz, then?” asked the serpent, voice low.

”Crowley… Of course, my Darling. Let’s!”

Crowley felt his heart swell and his love for the angel grow even stronger when Aziraphale broke into a dazzling smile. Rising from the bench and entwining his fingers with the celestial’s, Crowley knew that this was only the start of 6000 more, _lovely_ years.


End file.
